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Ebony Wings: Chapter 7
Chapter 7 Theresa "Hey wake up, Gothic-boy." Theresa shook Christopher. "What do you want?" He groaned. "It's morning, time to wake up." "5 more minutes." He pulled the covers over him. Theresa pulled the covers off him. "Come on, you haven't even bathed from since yesterday. At least do that." Christopher groaned and sat up, his eyes bloodshot. "It doesn't matter who you girls are, be it Aunt Aaira or you; none of you know the importance of a man's sleep." "Aunt Aaira?" She raised an eyebrow. "The sweet old woman incharged of the orphanage I was in." "Does she know you're here? The way you speak of her, you sound like you care about her a lot." Christoper didn't meet her eyes. "She's- she's dead." "Oh, I'm sorry." "It's fine. Her death wasn't your fault." Christopher stood up and stretched, pulling up and little bit of his shirt. He wasn't as well-built as other demigods in camp; of course the demigods in camp have had years of combat training and fighting compared to him. "So what exactly do you do in this camp exactly?" Christopher asked. "Sword-fighting, pegasi-riding, rock-climbing with lava, canoing." "Canoing doesn't seem to fit in that list of things." Christopher noted. "By the way." Theresa pulled out a t-shirt from one of the closets. "Here, your first camp half-blood shirt." She held out an orange t-shirt. Christopher took the t-shirt from her. "Orange isn't my colour." "Stop being so picky. Now go and wash up, the toilet's over there." She pointed at the door near the front door. "Fine." Christopher stood up. "Wanna wash my back?" "Tempting but no." Christopher reached for the helm of his t-shirt. "You don't mind do you?" Theresa blushed, making him smirk. She regained her composure. "Not at all." "Good, there's nothing to see really anyway." Christopher pulled the t-shirt off his head. He was right, though he was athletic sure but no where as ripped as some of the other boys in camp. Christopher was slender and lacked the height of a lot of other boys; his eyes at the same level as hers but of course she herself was taller than average. "Pants too much?" Christopher asked. "Pants too much." Shee agreed. "Fine, don't go peeking or anything." Christopher turned and headed for the toilet. Theresa sat down on her bed, another night done and now back into sunlight. She wondered what Christopher would think if she told him. Laugh? Probably. Amanda and her pack of wolves knew, that was one of the reasons that the child of Aphrodite picked on her. If Theresa were to regret any decision, it was trusting Amanda with her secret. Once Theresa thought Amanda was her friend - if only she could turn back time. Then again, Christopher didn't seem to be like that. He had defended her when Amanda had cornered her, surely he wouldn't sink to Amanda's level. Of course, the fact that she was afraid of the dark wasn't the only thing she was discriminated for. It was because she was unclaimed. Apparently being unclaimed was the same as being 'coloured' in the 1800s. Because it was her fault that her mother had not claimed her. "Deep in thought Tess?" Christopher looked down at her, his black hair wet from the shower. Theresa narrowed her eyes at him. "That was a quick shower." Christopher shrugged. "I'm a guy, we don't have to wash our long hair or condition it or stuff like that." Theresa stood up, managing to make her eyes meet his. They were still a deep shade of brown; she decided that it was a nice colour. "Like what you see?" Christopher smirked. Theresa looked away, flushed. "Maybe." She entertained him. He grabbed her chin and gently made her look at him. She heard herself suck in a breath. Christopher still had the smirk on his face. "Well, we are in a room, all alone." He tempted. She gathered her wits and gently pushed his hand away. "Tempting, but no." She knew he was joking, his sarcastic smirk was more than enough evidence to know that. "Suit yourself. It's only a one time deal." Christopher took a step back. "Come on." Theresa grabbed his arm. "Let's go head out to your first day of camp." ---- Christopher "This t-shirt is loose." He complained. "Oh stop complaining." Theresa frowned at him. "Make me." He stuck his tongue at her. "How mature." She smiled at his antics. Christopher returned the smile. He liked seeing her smile, basically why he constantly tried to make her smile. "So what are we doing?" He asked. "Breakfast, then basically we can do whatever we want. We don't have a head counselor so no one to order thus around." "To breakfast it is then." Christopher started walking but then immediately stopped himself. "Damn, we're going to have to sit beside Mr. D again aren't we?" "Yeah, why? Is something wrong?" Theresa asked. Christopher winced. "Let's just say the both of us did not part on the best terms." Theresa nodded in understanding. "I'll get you some food, meet me later." "Alright. I'll see ya there." "Where are you planning to go?" She asked. "I'll just wander around." He replied. "Don't get eaten by anything." She warned before jogging off. Christopher shook his head, removing images of him being eaten by wild plants from his head. He headed out in a random direction. He let his feet and legs carry him. He had no destination in mind. He found himself in an arena of sorts. Some straw dummies had been set up, some had been dismembered or beheaded. A single person stood in the middle, brandishing a polearm of sorts. The end of the polearm was some kind of hammer, it had a long spike on its reverse and a longer spike extending from the very top. He swung the weapon, sweeping one of the dummies of its feet. Then he raised the weapon above his head and crushed the dummy. "Nice job," Christopher said. The guy turned around and Christopher could look at his face. He had white blond hair, similar to Theresa but unlike hers, this boy's eyes were black. "Thanks." He panted. "What's that weapon?" Christopher asked out of curiousity. "This old gal?" He lifted up his weapon. "It's a Lucerne Hammer, used to crush armour. Her name's Lucy." "Nice to meet you, Lucy." The guy smiled. "Name's Lucian. What's yours?" "Christopher." Christopher had finally gotten used to saying the fake name he had adopted instead of his real one. "You new here? I haven't seen you around before." "Yeah, just got here yesterday." "Well then, let me welcome you to Camp Half-Blood." "Thanks." "Well then, am I good to guess that you haven't picked out your weapon yet?" "Unfortuntely." "Well let's go fix that shall we?" Lucian rested Lucy on his shoulder. "Follow me." Ebony Wings Main Page <----Previous Chapter [[Ebony Wings: Chapter 8|Next Chapter---->]] I’m Dust the Demon Slayer Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? 19:20, February 24, 2014 (UTC) Category:Archie-Son of Poseidon Category:Chapter Page Category:Fallen Angel Series(Remake)